Page 37 of Ruthless Love

Shrugging, she explains. “I love working there.” Then Evie lets out a frustrated sigh. “I love working, period. Being my own person. Being ... respected. My mom lost her own identity when she became Mrs. Garrett Banks. And when they divorced, she struggled. It took her years to figure out who she was. What she wanted. What made her happy. I never wanted that to happen to me. But ...”

Evie trails off, but I wait her out, patiently sitting in silence. After a long minute, she decides to give me more. “My dad wants this marriage. He just wants me to be happy.”

“So, you’re not happy in your engagement, but you’ll be happy in your marriage?” I ask, and when she shakes her head, I can see I’m not telling her things she doesn’t already know.

“You don’t get it. I know marrying Dimitri won’t make me happy, but it’ll make my dad happy. I’ve been fighting for that man’s approval since I could walk. We just never, I don’t know, connected. My brother, Alan, could do no wrong, and I could do no right. But I had this crazy idea that maybe, for once, I could make him happy. Connect us the only way I know how. Through status. But I just don’t think I can do it.”

My hand on hers is there to reinforce my words. “I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“That’s because you grew up in a normal family. Where people understand. And apple-pie concepts like people being loved and cherished for who they are actually exist.” Her blue eyes darken, filled more with envy than contempt.

But I stand firm. “Then you’ll have to make him understand.”

“You don’t get it. My father introduced us. Pushed us together. I tried to get out of it. Got engaged to a—” Evie stops herself, struggling with her word choice before settling on, “friend. But it couldn’t last, and not because I didn’t want it to. I could’ve loved that man more than I ever thought I could love anyone. But he was in love with someone else, and he’d wasted too much time already in a fake engagement with me.”

“Evie, you’re smart and selfless, and you don’t deserve to be in a loveless marriage, no matter how bad your father wants it. You deserve to be cherished for who you are. If you don’t want to marry the man, then don’t.”

“It’s become so much more than that. My dad is as close to Dimitri as he is with his own son. And I love my brother, but Alan is driving Banks Multimedia into the ground, one scandalous indiscretion and lawsuit at a time. This isn’t a shot at status, or power, or money. It’s a shot at saving my family’s reputation.”

“Are you sure getting in bed with Dimitri Antonov is the best way to do that?”

She goes quiet, and I’m starting to think there’s more to this than she wants to disclose. Or wants to admit.

“Can we drop it,” she asks softly. “Please?”

Deciding to let it go and lighten the mood, I say, “Sure. Hungry?”

Evie lets out a relieved huff. “Starving. The only reason you can’t hear my belly is the lapping of the waves.”

“News flash. I heard it. That’s why I asked.”

Chapter Twenty

EVIE

At dinner that night, it isn’t until after we receive our order—a colossal seafood tower overflowing with three tiers of perfectly pink lobster tails, king crab legs, and jumbo shrimp cocktail—that I realize how hungry I actually am, until I see the raw oysters on a half shell. Those are all for Austin, and no matter how he teases each one near my lips, there is zero chance that slime-fest is entering my mouth.

After he slurps down the latest one I refused, he smiles. “You should really try at least one. Fancy high-society people eat this all the time.”

“I know. Blech. Even back in the days when my FOMO was out of control, I tried and failed multiple times.”

“Hmm.” The conniving man strokes the stubble of his jaw. “Does that mean it’s on your bucket list?”

Wide-eyed, I’m stern when I say, “Not just no, but hell no. Huh-uh. Nope. Not going to happen.” I shake my head defiantly, glaring at him.

“Yet it’s something you wanted to do, but never got the chance. Those were your words.”

“Never got over my gag reflex is more like it.”

“Well, how about you let me tackle both,” he says before turning us both deepening shades of red. “I mean, with an oyster. Tackle your bucket list item and—”

“Tackle my gag reflex. Those were your words.” By now I’m giggling, delighted as he dies of embarrassment before my eyes. “I’ve seen you buck naked several times, and this is what makes you blush?”

“Hey,” he says, shaking his head in firm disagreement. “You only saw me naked once. Okay, twice, counting today.”

“That you know of.” Unashamed, I give him a smug grin. “I might have caught your full monty through your window a time or two. Or ten.”

His face falls into the palm of his hand before he composes himself, sitting up straighter and crossing his arms. “You know, you had me stripping in front of you again tonight. I’d say the least you can do for all that man-candy show is swallow a little oyster.”

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